Father, Forgive my Sins
by verfens
Summary: There's a myth that the old abandoned church is haunted….But really it hides a worse truth- a red-eyed boy lives inside. Will Elizaveta ever heal his broken heart, mind, and soul? Or will she drown in the lies and fear that surround his life? PruHun
1. Our Father, Who Art In Heaven

Father, Forgive my Sins

Summary: There's a myth that the old abandoned church is haunted….But really it hides a worse truth- a red-eyed boy lives inside. Will Elizaveta ever heal his broken heart, mind, and soul? Or will she drown in the lies and fear that surround his life? PruHun

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The church that was on the edge of town was haunted- It was an accepted fact of life in their town. Everyone knew it as truth, and though they debated about petty things, the one thing they could all agree on was that the place was housing a spirit.

Children didn't go near it; Parents wanted it torn down, and yet no one seemed to do anything about the old, broken down building. Maybe they were afraid of inciting the wrath of whatever malevolent spirit that lived there?

No one could quite say what it was that made it seem like that.

It used to be taken care of by Father Beilschmidt- a local catholic priest- before he had just up and left the place for Europe almost 10 years ago.

Some people say that his disappearance was because of the haunting of the ghost. Father Vargas, before his death, had also briefly taken care of the church grounds. But then he died, and the place just became a haunted hotspot for tourists.

But no one ever went in. That was the defining feature.

Some say that a little boy wandered in, and died in those walls. People said they see his ghost in the shadows of the stained glass windows, looking out at the world he left behind.

Others claimed that it was actually a vengeful mother, who killed herself after her child was killed in the frosty night and now took her rage out on those that dared to go inside the place her baby died.

But nine-year old Elizabeta Héderváry thought the whole thing was complete bull. There was no way things like ghosts could exist in real life- they were reserved for stories, and stories alone.

She had taken this task on as a dare from her arch-nemesis, Dracul- or in her mind, Count Dracula. The Transylvanian boy and Hungarian girl had been arguing as long as they had known each other. She had actually nicknamed the old guard dog down at the station Dradrool as an insult to her fellow nine year old.

But as she looked up into the dusty front entrance into the old church, large and actually kinda scary, she was thinking that maybe she was having second thoughts about the whole thing.

She had to go inside the church, and stay there for ten minutes before she could come out on top. Roderich was watching her with hopeful purple eyes, and she sighed. He wasn't handling being alone well, and had latched on to her when his father had ruined the relationship he had with Vash, and now was probably hoping she'd win the bet, and make the Romanian stop bullying him.

She gulped, before opening the door. She shut it close, and looked around.

The church looked….surprisingly clean. Walking in, it looked like someone had been dusting it regularly, carefully taking care of the obviously well-worn wood, and even putting flowers in the pots, beautiful arrangements of roses and other blossoms. But the colors were either white or red. They were beautiful, but why only those two colors?

The red carpet looked a little dirty, like it had been walked on, but it too looked as though someone took care of it.

Walking further and further inside the building, she saw other signs of life. She passed lit candles that had been burning so long a line of wax was trailing down the side of them.

She saw at the end of the hallway was an Altar, one where a figure of Christ on the cross was seen hanging above. It was an ethereal sight, one that would always take her breath away.

She heard a very ineloquent snore coming from somewhere in the pews. Elizabeta wondered who else had wandered in here. She stopped being afraid entirely, because really, if someone was sleeping in here, what was there to be afraid of?

Nothing, that's what. Elizabeta internally berated herself for ever buying into the silly myth. Everyone knew the only thing to fear was that Francis would decide to use you as his next sin. There was a reason the French boy was a nuisance to the sisters of the other Catholic Church in the middle of town.

But instead of seeing a hobo like she expected, or a father, or even a sister, for that matter….

All she saw was a tiny wool blanket wrapped around a small form that was breathing every few moments. It was a child, she thought with interest.

She liked sweet children, like Feliciano the young altar boy at the other church, so Elizabeta decided to carefully pull the wool blanket off the young child. What greeted her was a sight most uncommon. She wasn't expecting a hair of white hair, or such pale, sickly skin. Or the slight furrow in his brow despite the fact that he was a little boy. She had only seen furrows like that on adults whenever they talked about money, or foreclosure, things she didn't really get all that well.

But he looked thin. Even skinny little pansy Roderich wasn't that thin, she admitted to herself with a blush that Roderich wasn't a pansy, nor was he bony like this boy was- The

Austrian was lean, almost muscular, and was a very good musician. This boy did look her age though, so that was a good thing.

She poked him in his cheek. "Hey, wake up." She said with annoyance and a touch of impatience, and his eyelids fluttered open to reveal blood red eyes. They shocked her, but then she remembered she had just learned about genomes, and albinism.

He let out a very unmanly yelp as he found her face in his, before jumping back, his previously open face hard and guarded. "What are you doing here?" He asked in a heavy German accent, and his red eyes flashed in the lazy sunlight coming through the dirty stained glass windows.

"Are you the Demon of the Church?" Elizabeta asked him curiously, bypassing the question he had asked her.

"I'm not a Demon!" The furrow in his brow was back as he half-heartedly yelled at her, something like hurt combined with anger and tears in his red eyes, before turning around and running away. She felt a little guilty for making him cry. She heard him run up the stairs, but when she tried to follow the boy up them, she was hit with rocks.

Elizabeta sighed in resignation. "Fine then, stay up there," she muttered, rubbing her head from where she had been hit with the rocks. She turned around, and decided to look around. It was true the boy intrigued the young girl, but she had just been thrown rocks at. He obviously wasn't interested in her.

She walked out the east entrance to the church, the very back door. It was still a park of the church, because there was a great, crumbling wall no one could see over, not even the tall adults. But what she saw in this secret garden astounded her. It was a beautiful garden, one where roses of white and red grew in huge bushes, though the white was clearly favored over the red, for the red was much less seen in the green garden.

There was a small pond that was kept clean and even had a few goldfish, frogs, and lily pads. She saw that tadpoles swam around in one corner of it. She knelt down to look at the beautiful pink flower on the pad, and saw in her peripherals, the little boy watching her with curiosity. She smiled to herself, before saying aloud, "They're very pretty." She complimented his obviously superb skills in gardening.

Elizabeta turned around, to see him now just barely peeping out behind a doorway, only one red eye gleaming in the sunlight. She smiled at him in what she hoped was a reassuring way. "Hello there, I shouldn't have been so blunt with you." She stood up and faced him. "My name is Elizabeta. Why are you here?"

"….Because I'm a sin," the little boy hesitated before giving her that little bit of information, and she frowned deeply. How could such a young child be a sin.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, frowning. That was one thing about Catholics that she would never understand. They though that everyone on this earth was a sinner and the only way to repent the simple sin of being born was through the church, even though the bible told them that god loved them all. Elizabeta called it hypocrisy; her mother simply said it was contradiction.

"Even you said it…" He sighed, red eyes looking down at the ground. "I'm the demon of the church." Elizabeta furrowed her brows in confusion. She didn't like that answer whatsoever.

"Why's that?" She asked again, determined to get a better answer out of the boy.  
"Father Beilschmidt told me I was the sin born of a sin. A demon born of sin thrice evil as the first act of sin committed. I was cursed with this body as proof of that sin." He continued to stare at her with his gleaming red eyes that looked tired, bone tired, and Elizabeta fumbled for a response.

"N-No, even if Father Beilschmidt told you that, I'm sure-" She was cut off by him again.

"Father Vargas told me I was a sin too, but he also had also sinned once, and told me that someone had to show me how to repent. But…he said the difference was that he was bound in holy matrimony, unlike Father Beilschmidt." He shrugged.

Elizabeta didn't get what he was saying at all. She was Catholic as well, but she didn't understand what he was talking about.

"Eliza!" Roderich's voice was heard from the front door, and the albino froze. "Are you still alive? It's been ten minutes!" She only shut her eyes for one moment, but when she opened them, the albino was gone.

It was a conundrum, in her eyes, how such a little thing had managed to move so fast.

She however, did not let it bother her, and called out as she walked calmly out of the garden and back into the church, "I'm fine, Roderich!"

She left the church without as much as a second thought, even though a part of her was completely entranced by the ruby red eyes of the boy that lived in the church.

Little did she know that they watched her just as curiously, just as intrigued, just as entranced by her simple hazel eyes.

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In later years, Elizabeta wondered often if she had stayed, what would have she have learned of the boy-That little boy who considered his own life a sin, the little boy who she was always confused by.

Would she have still gotten involved in his mangled up life? Dragged into his story?

Or, what would have become of him if she had chosen to not take the dare in the first place? Would he be alive and well? Or would he be dead or dying in that church with his web of lies that surrounded him?

She had yet to figure that out.

She dressed herself for her big day, and smiled into the mirror.

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A/N: Here we are, repost of Father, Forgive My Sin! I hope that you enjoy it as much this time around as you did when it was originally posted!


	2. Hallowed Be Thy Name

Father, Forgive me my Sins

Chapter 2: Hallowed be Thy Name

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It was two months later before Elizabeta Héderváry would enter the Church doors again.

Two months before the image of the little albino boy would bother her so much that the nine-year old would give in and go back to the supposedly haunted Church at the fringe of her small town.

Two months of a relatively normal life, if one didn't count the haunting of her mind and dreams with blood red eyes and gleaming white hair like moonlight.

Two months before she realized she didn't even know his name, and felt guilty and slightly embarrassed that she had forgotten to ask.

Two months of thinking of Father Beilschmidt, and wondering _how_ he could tell a child like the boy that he was a _sin_ was in any way righteous in the eyes of the lord….

It wasn't righteous, wasn't going to bring him glory….And maybe it was why he left for Europe suddenly with a younger Priest, and a pregnant woman.

She was left to wonder, and because that young woman was apparently on her way back to this town, after six years of being gone, with a young boy- the child she had been carrying- she was curious. They would be arriving in a week or two, and one of the houses nearby was sold in her name. Curious, she passed by it, and the House had the same feeling to her as the Church- a sinking feeling of evil.

But today was the day her wondering came to an end. Feliks, one of her close friends, was being bullied by a bunch of kids, and had run off straight to the church. His best friend, Toris, had heard she had gone inside and had also unscathed, and was asking for her help. "Please, I don't want him to be hurt! He's really not thinking!"

She walked towards the large building with Toris holding onto her arm. He was still a little shaken from where Ivan had bullied him earlier. She had, of course, kicked his ass for it, but something always seemed… off… about Ivan. Like he didn't realize he was being mean and cruel to the smaller Toris.

She heard the door to the church slam shut ahead of where she and Toris were walking. They hadn't gotten there in time, she realized with a sinking feeling, and the two of them would have to go into the church to get him. On one hand, she was happy she had an excuse to go see if the boy with red eyes was still there, but on the other, she was dreading what would happen if the two boys who were also going to be in the church with her.

Elizabeta felt a little selfish, but she wanted to keep the secret of the albino boy that was hidden in the church all to _herself_. She found him there, she wanted to keep something like that too _herself_- it was only right, since only _she_ had been brave enough to go inside the supposedly haunted church. It was obviously right. She comforted herself for the possessive thoughts.

Even though Toris and Feliks were going in now, she had been the one to break the ice, to become the exception to the rule.

Only _she_ should reap the benefits of it. Specifically, being given the friendship of the so called "demon of the church".

She looked to Toris, who was in awe of the building standing in front of them.

"You alright?" she asked, snapping the younger boy out of his trance. He looked at her, blinking owlishly, before nodding.

"Let's go." He said with an air of finality.

She pushed open the door.

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As Elizabeta walked into the church, she could hear Feliks somewhere in the pews, probably crying because of something someone told him. But, there was something off about the church. It wasn't as bright, despite the fact that more light was pouring in through the windows than she remembered last time. It looked like someone had finally gotten around to cleaning the stained-glass, which was sparkling and colorful….but it was darker for another reason, one she had yet to place.

The church seemed lifeless. As though someone had sucked out all the light of the building, and when Elizabeta looked around, she saw that there was a little bit of dust on the flat surfaces, when last time she had been here, they were spotless.

It scared her more than she was willing to admit out loud.

Where was the little red-eyed boy, who took care of the garden in the back and ensured the place was clean?

"Feliks!?" She called down the halls with a worried, shaky tone, and for a moment, she felt Toris' grip on her arm tighten. "Are you alright?"

At first, there was silence. Then, "Elizabeta…?"

Both she and Toris sighed with relief. "Feliks, it's me and Toris!" She called out, and he stood up from his hiding place, wiping the corners of his eyes with the palms of his hands.

She and Toris ran to him, and Toris let her go in favor of holding on to his best friend tightly. The brunette boy hugged Feliks, before scolding him beneath his breath, some words of comfort that were obviously only for Feliks' ears.

Until a rock came down from the upper level of the church, and hit Toris smack on the head. "Ow!" The brunette boy cried out, looking around. Another rock came hurtling down, and hit Feliks. But Elizabeta saw something that the two boys didn't as they cried out, "Demon of the church!" And ran out of the building quickly.

She saw the notes attached to the rocks.

She picked up the stone that hit Toris. _Help me…. _It read, in shaky handwriting that appeared as if it looked like it was out of practice. The second one had an apology, asking the brunette to forgive him.

Elizabeta looked up at the sanctuary that was upstairs. Should she…?

She looked back down at the shaky note.

….Yes, she decided, she would. She gulped. Elizabeta walked over to the other side of the church, and placing a hand on the rail, she slowly walked up the stairs, her hands shaking.

Looking around, she saw all the usual things in that part of the building, but still no sign of red-eyes.

"Hello? Are you here?" She called around in a whisper, as little good that would do her. Thankfully, she didn't have to repeat herself, and instead heard his voice, shaky and soft, quoting something from the bible.

""For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, 'The righteous shall live by faith.'"" He paused, thinking of where he got the comforting words. "Romans, 1: 16-17…."

She followed the voice of the little boy, and found him curled up by the railing of the sanctuary. However, blood red as his eyes was in a pool around him, despite his obvious efforts to stop it with his pure white clothing.

"Hello…?" She called out to him, this time loud enough to garner his attention. And his red eyes focused a little bit on her hazel ones.

"Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer…." Another pause, "Romans 12, verse twelve. God has sent me a savior from such an unfortunate death. Praise the Lord, for His son died for us."

Elizaveta realized that some of his prayers were blending together. And she walked over to him, before bending down in front of the boy. "Hey, what happened to you?" She gestured to his leg, which had a white cloth stained with blood wrapped around him. She struggled to keep a straight head, even as he struggled to find the right words to explain what had happened to him. She had to keep a straight face. He obviously could do that no longer.

"…Cleaning the windows…..Fell…." He groaned, and was lost again in words of prayers. Who knew how long he had been like this. Her mother often warned her about things like infection and bacteria, but she didn't know everything. Blood continued to seep out of the white fabric.

She couldn't handle this on her own. Now he had gone on a rant on how sinners would not inherit the kingdom of the righteous, and she remembered that he considered himself a sin. He was contradicting himself.

She whispered something into his ears. "God Hates the sin, but loves the sinner," He looked to her, eyes glazed, and mumbled something in Latin.

Before saying aloud, "Ah, but I am a sin…so God hates me…." He made a look of self-loathing so strong; it broke the nine-year old girls' heart.

"You are a boy, just as I am a girl, and though we all are guilty of sin…The eyes of the Lord are righteous." She frowned at him, trying to get him to look at her again, but he was gone again. "I'll be right back. I promise," she whispered to the boy, even though it was likely he couldn't hear her any more.

She stood up and ran down the stairs as fast as she could, her heart pounding in her chest. It was only three years ago that her father had died, and she knew that she had this young boy's life in her hands. She couldn't let him die, even though it would send him to heaven. There was something that did not sit right with her.

He hadn't yet had the chance to live.

"Do onto others as you would have them do onto you," She whispered to herself between pants. She kept running. Who could she turn too, who would be brave enough to go into those walls with her to save a little boy who claimed to be born from sin?

She ran into something with a loud 'oomph', and heard a kindly voice speaking to her.

"My child, what is wrong?" An elderly priest bent down to see her eye level.

"Father Fredrick!" She cried out, recognizing him from her own church.

"Elizabeta, what is it?" He asked, slightly more urgent when he realized that the child in front of him was Elizabeta, and she was crying.

"Please! You have to help me!" She cried out, and fisted her hands into his clean robes.

"Elizabeta, you must use your words, take a deep breath." He ordered her, getting down on one knee, and one of his hands rubbing against her back to try and calm the panicked girl down. She took in a deep, shuddering breath, before trying to explain.

"The boy- The red-eyed boy in the abandoned church- he needs help!" She pleaded with him, and her hazel eyes bored into his own kind pair with desperation. "He's bleeding _everywhere_! He needs someone to help him!"

The Father's eyes widened. "The old church, you say?" He stood up, and ordered, "Take me to him, hurry!"

She didn't need to be told twice, taking off at a run, her heart pounding in her head by this point in time. The elder priest just barely kept up with the girl, and soon the crumbling building came into view, she would have sighed in relief, but she could only pant as she tried to get back to him in time.

She had to make it in time to help him, because she didn't even know that little boy's name, and she didn't want that guilt of seeing someone burying a nameless child simply because she had never bothered to ask it from him.

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One of her greatest mistakes, she realized in later years, was not finding him directly after Roderich broke their conversation. Not reassuring him from the start that she wasn't scared off by his so-called admission of guilt for a sin that was utterly out of his control.

Her second greatest was not going to see him again sooner. He was too bony, to skinny to be eating regular meals. And on top of that, why had she not asked him if anyone was watching him?

Her many mistakes glared down at her now, because they were the reason he ended up in such a way.

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	3. Thy Kingdom Come

Father, Forgive my Sins

Thy Kingdom Come

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Elizabeta Héderváry never suspected that this was where she would be when she was nine years old. That she would find herself inside the old abandoned church that was everyone's fear on the very edge of her town. She never would have believed she would be rummaging through drawers filled with cobwebs as she looked desperately for something as simple and common as a first aid kit.

In fact, if one had told her such just three months ago, the girl would have declared that person crazy as Dracul, and would have promptly left them where they stood.

"Hurry child!" Father Fredrick called out from the upper level of the church, where the elder priest was with the red-eyed boy she had met two months ago. The very same boy who was currently dying in Father Fredrick's arms as he struggled to stop the boy from bleeding out. The very same boy she had abandoned like many others obviously had.

Father Fredrick hadn't let the girl see the wounds that littered pale white skin, but by the way blood spurted out, Elizabeta could guess the boy was in a bad way.

When she found the box, finally, after searching for this long, she felt relief flood her mind. She grabbed it, not even minding the fact it was dusty and covered in spider webs, and Elizabeta ran so fast it would make Feliciano proud. She felt her heart pounding in her head, her as she looked at him, given for a first time the extent of the damage, her hazel eyes widened in fear, fear for the boy's life.

_Oh, dear lord in heaven, the _blood_….._

"Elizabeta!" Father Fredrick snapped her out of her fear-induced trance. Once he had her attention, he calmed his voice down, making it sound soothing, trying to give the girl some comfort in her crisis. "I need you to open the box. Can you do that for me?" She nodded jerkily, and with her small hands shaking, she opened it up mechanically, her arms feeling like they were made of metal and were unable to bend. "Now, grab the bandages, and hand them to me." She took them out, fumbled with them for a moment before setting the box on the floor, and holding them out to him with a shaky arm.

Expertly, he used his free hand to grab the bandages, and wrap them around the boy, but wisely kept the extent of the damage out of the young girl's sight. He reached under his robes, into his jean pocket, and grabbed a cell phone, a huge one, but one that would work. He pushed it into her hand, which was still extended out to him.

"Now my girl, I need you to dial on the phone the numbers, 911." She nodded, before her fingers jerkily pressed the buttons, and she heard the ringing on the phone. "Good, now, Elizabeta, when they answer, I need you to tell them that you need help, you are in the abandoned church, and a little boy is hurt badly."

"911 operator, what is your emergency?" A woman's voice came from the phone, and though she tried to answer, Elizabeta's voice was stuck in her throat, she wasn't able to speak- she simply couldn't.

"Elizabeta, please, he doesn't have much time." Father Fredrick's quiet reminder made the young girl start tearing up, and as the boy's face crumpled in pain, they leaked out of the corners of her eyes.

"P-Please…" She blubbered into the phone. "He-He's hurt, b-bloods everywhere….." She sniffed, trying to stop herself from breaking down as the boy moaned in pain when Father Fredrick tried to inspect the damage on his torso by pressing his hands down on his back.

"Miss, stay with me- Tell me what is going on." The woman's voice was urgent.

"He's hurt really badly and I got Father Fredrick but he can't do anything else and he told me to call you and I don't know what to do anymore and please, please, you need to help him because he's dying and there's blood everywhere and I don't even know his name but I don't want him to die!" Elizabeta started sobbing by this point in time, her words mashed together in one sentence, her voice panicked, as she heard the boy moan again, apparently having found the strength to open his confused red eyes.

"Miss, Miss, please stay with me, tell me where you are!" The woman's voice was heard, and muffled yelling was on the other side of the line, but Elizabeta couldn't tell what they were saying.

"We're in the abandoned church!" She cried out, before just breaking down as the boy's red eyes started leaking tears, clearly in a great deal of pain.

The woman's voice grew distant and muffled in Elizabeta's panicked mind. "Miss… Keep talking to me…Help will be there soon…just stay on the line…"

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When the paramedics arrived, Father Fredrick was the only one with a straight head. Elizabeta was in tears, and the boy with red eyes had fallen back into unconsciousness. He was praying that the child whose name he did not know would be alright, that they would get there in time to save the boy.

As they picked his frail form off the ground, Elizabeta saw through teary eyes that they frowned, probably because he was so bony and light.

"Where are his parents? What's his name? Why was he here? How did this happen?" The questions were asked systematically, and Elizabeta could only reply wearily in a chant.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know." She just kept repeating the answer over and over, and eventually they took pity on the traumatized girl and let her go for now.

Father Fredrick said that, "She was the one to bring me here; all I know is that he was hurt badly when I showed up. I do know that I have never seen him around the town before."

Having no one with the boy who was able to answer those questions about him, they took Father Fredrick and Elizabeta in the ambulance, the Priest in a seat, Elizabeta holding the boys hand in the back, unwilling to leave his side.

The drive was uneventful, or at least, to Elizabeta it was. All she was seeing, the only thing she could see in fact, was the boy's shaking breaths that puffed up against the plastic mask put over his face to help him breath.

Her small hand wound its way into his calloused, pale, bloody hand.

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As they reached the hospital, many things happened that she didn't understand. They didn't know the boy's name, so why were they calling him John Doe? Why did they have to stick so many things into his skin, why didn't they let her come with them?

Why would no one say that he was going to be alright?

Father Fredrick and the young girl were led into the lobby of the hospital, and left there after being told that he had to go into surgery.

The Priest bent down to pick the small girl up off her feet, and carried her to a chair, before setting her down, and hugging her.

"Pray for him, my child." He said in a solemn voice. "It is up to the Lord to save him now…"

And pray she did, she prayed to the Lord to save him from death, even though he would be with the Father, she didn't want to let him go, even if that thought was selfish, she couldn't bear to let him die with no one there and all those things poking into him.

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"Mr. Fredrick?" A nurse called, holding up a clipboard with a stack of papers on them. Elizabeta shook his hand to get his attention. They had been dozing on uncomfortable chairs for god only knew how long. She was up on her feet in a heartbeat, looking at the tired-looking young woman expectantly.

Father Fredrick was on his feet only shortly after her, and since the question was directed at him, he answered with a curt, "Yes?"

"John Doe is out of surgery." The nurse began, and Elizabeta felt tension and dread settle thickly in her chest, her heart pounding in her breast. "He is ready to see you." She finished, and that tension was gone in seconds.

When her father had died, no one had been allowed to see the body, except her mother. So the boy was not dead. She smiled for the first time since she had first found the boy bleeding in the church, and though it was shaky, it felt good to know that he was going to be alright. "Thank the Lord…" She whispered reverently, knowing that her prayers had been answered.

Father Fredrick looked at her, smiling reassuringly, before taking a hold of her small hand, and saying, "Why don't we go see him?" She nodded, wanting to see the boy, wanting to make sure he was still breathing and she was able to see him, touch him, and speak to him.

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The sound of his heart, beating steadily, filled the white room. His eyes were shut in peaceful slumber, and she was absolutely relieved that he was alright. She heard Father Fredrick breathe out a sigh of relief.

She walked over to him, and saw that he had dark stains of bruises on his pale white skin, and dark wires running through him, bandages on top of some of the places she knew he had cuts on.

"He had heavy internal bleeding and a head wound, but he should wake up soon enough," The nurse was speaking to Father Fredrick, and Elizabeta was only half-tuned in to the conversation between the two adults.

"Have you found out who he is?" The priest asked, and the woman made an unhappy noise.

"I regret to say we have no records of him. We have no idea who he is." Elizabeta turned around at that, looking at the adults in the room with green eyes that were confused.

"But you call him John Doe. Why is that?" She looked down at the boy again.

The nurse hummed, possibly trying to find a way to explain it. "We use it to fill out paperwork," She began, but Father Fredrick gave a simpler answer.

"They use it as a placebo until they know who he is, Elizabeta." He explained calmly, and she nodded in understanding, even though she didn't know what exactly 'placebo' meant, she got the general idea.

She looked back down at the boy, talking to him even though he couldn't hear her, most likely.

"You don't look like a John to me…." The young girl pushed a strand of moonlight-colored hair out of his pale face, before she heard him start to mumble something….

"T-That's cuz I'm not a John…" He slurred, making it all the harder to make out his words from his harsh German accent, and her eyes widened with excitement and relief. His red eyes fluttered open, standing out hard against his white background. "Name's Gilbert…." His eyes focused on her after blinking a few times, before he frowned. "I had a dream about you…." He murmured, looking confused, probably still not realizing where he was.

She smiled at him, before his eyes started to comprehend where he was. He yelped as he started to struggle.

Both Father Fredrick and the nurse jumped as the albino boy leapt out of the bed. His red eyes looked at them in panic, before the boy hid his bony form behind Elizabeta, the only person his age and the only person he knew in the room.

"My child, you're alright, we are not going to hurt you." Red eyes only looked around the room, trying to find an escape. "Please, calm down. We just want to help you, you're hurt." He made a noise of panic as he couldn't see any way out of the room. There were no windows, and the adults in the room were blocking the door.

Just when he looked like he was going to bolt, Elizabeta did something that even she was surprised as everyone else that she did it. She turned around and hugged him tightly, her body pressed against his, and she felt his heartbeat flutter frantically even though he had pulled out of the machines that showed it on their screens. He couldn't move, simply because he had reverted to pure panic, such terror that he couldn't bring his body to obey his mind.

"Please, calm down…." She whispered into his ears, "Stop, we don't want to hurt you…" She felt him stop struggling, and he mumbled something in confused-sounding German. "Please, _Gilbert_…" She accented heavily on his name, "Don't run from us…"

As soon as he stopped moving, the nurse walked over to them, treading cautiously. "Your name is Gilbert?" She spoke in a slow, reassuring voice, hands low, trying to look unthreatening. He nodded tentatively after a moment. "My name is Mary-Ann; I am a nurse here at the Hospital. Can you tell me where your parents are? Or how we can reach them?"

He mumbled something. "Can you please repeat that?" She asked while she got a piece of paper and grabbing her pen to write down any information he gave them.

"I….I don't have parents…." He looked down, red eyes sad. "Demons don't have family."

The two adults frowned at that. "What do you mean, son?" Father Fredrick asked him, and Gilbert looked at him with sad red eyes.

"I'm the demon of the church…" He mumbled, and Elizabeta knew exactly where this was going. It was obviously a rehearsed line. "My birth is a sin thrice evil as the sin first committed by Father Beilschmidt." At that, both Priest and Nurse furrowed their brows and looked as if they couldn't place why he would tell the boy that, just as Elizabeta couldn't.

"That's not true, son." Father Fredrick told him, and found that he could walk over to the boy, and place a hand on his shoulder. Both kids looked at him. "You are not stained by sin. If so, you may repent that in the righteous eyes of the Lord. There is no such thing as a sin so evil that you cannot be forgiven, not one that you could have committed as a child, anyways. Tell me boy, does no one look after you?"

Gilbert averted his red gaze. "No. Not since Father Vargas left to join our lord." Elizabeta felt guilt settle in her stomach. Why did she not ask him that? She was mature, she was smart. So why didn't she ask the boy-Gilbert-that?

Father Fredrick looked straight at the nurse. "I'll take care of him. He needs structure, someone to look after him, someone to pay the bills…" That's where Elizabeta and Gilbert obviously lost the adults conversation.

"Hey, let's get you back in the bed." She scolded him. "You're hurt." He looked at her, with an unreadable look in his eyes, before letting her put him back in the bed.

The adults seemed to come to an agreement, when Nurse Mary-Ann walked out briefly, before coming back in with a doctor.

"Hello there Gilbert," He spoke conversationally. "My name is Dr. Myers, and I need to know what happened to you." Gilbert looked at him with a look of mistrust, before Elizabeta grabbed onto his hand, and held it tightly within her own. He sucked his lips in for a moment, before finding the courage to speak.

"I-I fell….I was cleaning the windows, and something startled me and I slipped and fell, landed on the second floor, and broke something as I hit the ground. I…I saw that I was bleeding, so I grabbed a white cloth and wrapped it around the cuts….I dragged myself over to the open part of the second floor, where you can see people on the first….I don't know how much time passed….but then I heard people talking, and I grabbed rocky…my pet rock…from my pocket, and wrote something on a spare piece of sheet music….. I threw it down at them…I think it hit one of them….and I did the same a second time…. I prayed… and I think Elizabeta was talking to me….but I don't remember anything else…."

Doctor Myers finished his notes, before smiling reassuringly at the boy. "It's alright, you answered all my questions." Gilbert gave him a sad excuse of a smile in return.

Father Fredrick looked at the doctor seriously. "How long will he be here?"

"I'd like to keep him here overnight, give him a little more blood, because he lost a great deal of it when he fell, but after that, you can check him out." The priest nodded, before turning to Gilbert and Elizabeta.

"Elizabeta, you should be getting home, I am sure your mother is worried about you…" The brunette smiled sheepishly, hiding her blush by turning away. "And Gilbert, I will be taking care of you from now on, alright?" He nodded slowly, probably not really comprehending what Father Fredrick meant by that.

Nurse Mary-Ann led Elizabeta out of the room, and her gaze never left Gilbert's own until they couldn't keep it up any longer. She was brought out of the hospital, was wished a good night, and started walking back to her house.

She walked home slowly, with only street lamps lighting her pathway. She would probably be in trouble when she got home, but she couldn't come to regret any of her decisions.

Because now she had a name to go with the face- the Red-eyed boy who lived in the Church was called Gilbert. She felt glee at the fact _she_ was the one he told that to, not Father Fredrick, not the nurse, _her_.

XXXXX

When she got home, her mother indeed gave her a lecture like none other, but when she said she simply lost track of her time with Father Fredrick, her mother's anger softened, and turned into relief that her little girl was alright, hugging her tightly.

XXXXX

In her later years, Elizabeta occasionally wondered if anyone had ever done that with Gilbert before she had. He was not familiar with the gesture when she had done it, had actually frozen in his mental strife.

But she also knew that this was the day when things actually started going right for him.

Something as small and yet powerful, like a hug, convinced him to find the courage to speak up.

And so, his make-shift family started building itself, without his knowledge.

XXXXX

A/N: I actually am really pleased with this chapter!


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